It happens at this point in Lent every year. It's like the well runs dry. Marathoners call it, "hitting the wall." Well, I've hit the wall.
At the beginning of Lent the meditations come easily. A thought ignites a theme and the words flow. Apart from working the logic of a given reflection writing the meditations need only a small amount of effort.
Then day by day the effort needed to complete the meditation grows. I find myself searching my bookshelves for ideas and quotes to spark my quiet mind. Each theme I approach turns into a dead end and frustration raises its ugly head. "Maybe I'll just skip a day" I whine. "Why did I every decided to do this," I complain as I make my way to the coffeepot.
In a faint whisper I hear my voice saying, "But Don this is the point." Stripping away the pretense and facades I use to hide behind. Being honest with me and sharing this journey with others becomes more costly. I'm afraid to admit I'm not as fully working my Lenten journey as I had hoped. Even Lent has become a device I use to avoid facing the conversion I'm called to.
I'm proud that I'm not eating between meals. Yet, the meals I eat are themselves more than I would normally consume. I bag up two boxes of macaroni and cheese to put in the box for the food pantry. In my freezer I place a better cut of beef. I've held fast to the tradition of not eating meat on Fridays. Yet, the shrimp cocktail I ate on Friday wasn't much of a penance if a penance at all.
I wonder should Lent take work like shoveling 12 inches of snow off my walk. After that adventure my back hurts. It seems that something should hurt as I make my way through Lent. Perhaps I'm getting good at avoiding the cost of Lent.
"Remember your mercies. O Lord." (Ps 25:6a)